


His Reflection

by Tsuukai



Series: Collected Fragments [3]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M, Mirrors, Service, Shoes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 13:14:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1984299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsuukai/pseuds/Tsuukai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taiga prefers buying things online. It saves him from being offended by the nonstop flinching of little Japanese people who look at him as if he was a freak; saves him from the stares they give him when he asks for his size; but he guess it also saves his heart from doing those terrible gymnastic moves like he used to do in elementary school courtesy of cruel American Gym teachers—like, what was wrong with a grown man wearing leotards, sticking their junk in an eleven-year-old’s face, those asswipes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking of any warnings I should put up...but I don't know any more...what counts as a warning. Plotless fluff, maybe?
> 
> This was seriously just a little bit of a guilty pleasure.

 

He was on the verge of asking for assistance when through the reflection of the storeroom mirrors, a mousey teenager with the red sale shirt on, shivered behind him. Granted, on a regular basis people were scared of him, but he knew for sure that he was relatively in a good mood so he was not frowning furiously for her to keep such a wide berth. She should be lucky that he was not annoyed with the branch for not having his size in general and only in select styles. Unbeknownst to him, just out of his field of vision, a scowling ebony skinned man hunkered at the display rack adjacent to the one he was perusing. 

 At the faint tickling sensation at the back of his neck, Taiga glanced over his right shoulder and almost shuddered at the look he received. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

"What happened to the shoes I gave you?" was the hostile takeover at questioning.

Taiga scoffed out a low "You mean the shoes Momoi-san gave me?" To Aomine he spoke a little louder, saying, "I don't want to wear it out before the Inter-High starts." And as an afterthought, almost peeved, "They're really good shoes."

Aomine had a look on his face that warred between affronted and flabbergasted. Taiga paid him no mind, going back to the brunette nervously fidgeting wig her red shirt, eyes flickering between him and Aomine. "Hey, miss," Taiga called, trying to avoid scowling at her jump. She came close enough to view the shoes, but not in between the two of them.

Taiga agreed that she was smart—potentially, the two basketball players were prone to butting heads every time they were in the vicinity, and there had yet to be interactions without being high-strung and hot-headed—knees slightly bent and feet in the direction towards safety, her lips stretched in a watery line.

"How may I help you, Sir?"

"Yea, do you think you'd have these in my size?" He pointed out to the high-tops in a striking red toe cap and heel counter with a neon green tongue and the Jumpman logo in black, reaching for it to hand it to her.

He watched her flinch.

“The other one’s better,” came a grouchy comment.

Taiga glanced over at the brooding male, then at the display he was staring at. He decided to be civil. “Which one?”

“The AJ XX8s. The Chicago Bulls colours.”

Taiga took in the red, black and white colours of the shoes, similar to the AJs that Aomine had been forced to lend him. Or give away. Even after he lost at the one-on-one. No matter, he still had time to push his face in after wards. At the moment, his decision pool was becoming bigger because he was really starting to agree with Aomine, and he almost did not want to.

His pride was shot to hell when he pulled the shoe down. Feeling Aomine’s smirk from where he stood, Taiga ignored him to chat with the employee.

While they waited (Taiga did not know why the teenager was still there waiting with him, not even browsing the store), Taiga sat on the cushioned bench lying right before the display mirrors. He watched the furrowed lines on Aomine’s face smooth out when he thought Taiga was not staring at him anymore, and forced himself to hold back the gasp at the ghosting of a smile on usually sardonic lips.

Who knew the other could look like a decent human being for once?

Taiga was distracted on the helper’s arrival, and a part of him was saddened that he could not continue observing Aomine. That part of him was mercilessly squashed; he might need to hurry back home and rest as the sun might have affected his health, he feels.

The trial of the Chicago Bulls themed shoes, Michael Jordan’s classic original colours, passed along as a pleasant one. Aomine had come closer by then, standing behind him to tower over the bench to view his AJ clad feet, commenting honestly in a pleasantly non-derisive tone, and all Taiga could really do was stare at the reflection of this different Aomine in the mirrors.

He probably should go to a doctor before heading home. He might need medication. He hopes his father does not worry too much when he tells him his son, all alone in Japan, is sick.

“So, you going to buy it?” Aomine’s voice cuts into his dilemma, bringing him back to the matter at hand.

Taiga cranks his neck to drop his head backwards, glancing at Aomine upsidedown for longer than he needs before he says, “Yea.”

Aomine gives him a quirky short stretch of his lips, a furrow above his right eyebrow forming towards his nose bridge, still bent forward. Involuntarily, Taiga’s arm rose in between them and using two fingers, smoothened the furrow out. Well, he did not need to much else when the forehead cleared of any such furrows as two naturally well-shaped eyebrows shot up into a dark blue hairline. In just as wide blue eyes, Taiga saw his awed expression reflected back at him, upside down, glad that they really were not mirrors because he did not have to see the blush on his face so much as he can feel it spread fast over his cheeks.

A clearing of the throat from the only other blushing individual in their premise broke the spell, and a quavering voice asked, “Should I take this to the counter, sir?”

Taiga prefers buying things online. It saves him from being offended by the nonstop flinching of little Japanese people who look at him as if he was a freak; saves him from the stares they give him when he asks for his size; but he guess it also saves his heart from doing those terrible gymnastic moves like he used to do in elementary school courtesy of cruel American Gym teachers—like, what was wrong with a grown man wearing leotards, sticking their junk in an eleven-year-old’s face, those asswipes?

 _Maybe someone needs to call an ambulance_ , he thinks. His heart was doing funny flips and his stomach was making some weird churning motions that he has never felt before; he wonders if he will finally know the pains of indigestion and heartburn.

“Ah, yes!” Taiga scrambled back, wincing at both his loud confirmation and the snap of his neck when he turned to see the ducked head of the girl. Said girl hurried to collect the shoes off Taiga’s feet—not even waiting for him to remove them—before she haphazardly ran to the register out front, leaving both boys awkwardly behind.

Taiga rubbed his nape, unsure how to carry on now that his only escape really made a mad dash away from them. And it did not help matters that Aomine did not react at all. He wonders if he broke the male.

“I, ah, should go and pay for it now,” he itched to look back at the other, but his body refused to turn. Though his eyes, apparently smarter than his muscular body, darted quickly to the mirrors on the display rack again, but was disappointed that they could not capture the dark skinned male’s face, who at that point, straightened to his full height. As Taiga walked away, he did not see a shaking hand reach up to cover a full blown blush.

At the counter, Taiga’s flush darkened as the two girls behind the register tittered and did voiceless squeals, and he forced jerky movements to bang the credit card on the surface, pushing it closer to them. the bang made them both jump, and from behind him, he was acutely aware of Aomine making his way to the front; hard to miss such a dark lumbering guy in a brightly lit shop with short shelves, the only tall thing being the 28 foot tailgating flagpole that he crossed on his way over.

Aomine’s shoulders were hunched, hands dug deep into his cargo pants, the dark hoodie he wore left open to show the deep square neck of his grey wife-beater. It was nothing to actually look and appreciate—Taiga too had an amazing (if he said so himself) set of pecks—so he did not know why staring at the expanse of hard muscle was making his heart beat so loud, it was challenging to think.

“Sir, here’s your credit card,” a soft feminine voice called. He jerked his sight to the counter where his card reflected the light overhead, and he collected it along with the receipts. A bagged box was handed next, the girl confirming him receiving it, making Taiga always silly on hearing it. “Come again, sir!” He knew exactly what they meant by that, their smiles wide, the cheeks stained with a pink that was overtaking the false colour of their makeup, knowing eyes squinting as the cheeks pushed them close.

He shivered at their veiled thoughts.

He shivered at his own thoughts.

“Kagami,” Aomine’s voice has never sounded so clear and modulated, and he found himself wanting to hear the huskier version of his normal drawl. “Have you eaten yet?”

And Taiga was thinking about other little things; the eyes that hooded with purpose, the low shine of those blues, the dark brush of his hair that should have looked ridiculous but made Aomine such a daunting man; the long limbs padded with muscles ripped so carefully (or naturally if the male was born that way); and… Taiga’s mouth dried up.

“No…not yet,” he responded, a little winded as if he ran a marathon without really moving away from the counter. He can distinctly feel so many eyes on him, burning holes, and he wants to reach out and hide his burning face, but he cannot stop looking at the other male. Like a magnet, his whole body was attuned the its pole, resonating more than it did when they had played against each other, and Taiga hazarded…if Aomine felt the same.

“Good, let’s go get something; you’re buying.” He cocked his head to one side, and then jerked it to signal outside. “C’mon, stop wasting time.” But Aomine did not move.

Taiga took one step forward. Aomine took one back. Another, and he watched the leaner male do the opposite. A small grin crept slowly onto his face, saying, “Why should I buy? Are you broke? Trying to mooch off of me?”

Aomine laughed, throwing his head back to glance at him over his shoulder. “It’s payment for my services.” Then sneering, causing Taiga’s heart to restart with stronger heart beats, “Unless you want to give me those pretty neat looking shoes you just bought there.”

Taiga laughed, hand tightening on the handles of the bag. “You want this? _You gotta earn it, bubba_ ,” he switched to English.

A confused pout took over Aomine’s face; eyes covered in shadows with the help of the bringht fluorescent overhead tube lights, he parroted, “Bubba? What’s that?”

Taiga laughed some more. “Don’t you want to know. C’mon, I’ll pay for your _service_ with some burgers.” He was still laughing when Aomine followed him out. On passing, he caught the blush on the other youth’s face through the store’s mirrors lining the wall, and ducking his head, he figured it would not hurt to play it a little more. “Who knows, maybe I’ll pay another price for _another_ type of service.”

Keeping an eye on the reflected Aomine, he shouted out ‘ _Score!_ ’ when the dark skin around his eyes turned so red, he was looking purple. Out loud, he laughed, reaching behind him to tug on one hoodie covered arm. “C’mon, Ahomine. You’re so slow!”

“Quiet, you Bakagami!” Aomine snapped, dragging his feet. But not once did he pull his arm away.

“By the way…” Taiga suddenly remembered, glancing over his shoulder at the sulking man, “Why were you in the store? Did you need something?”

Aomine’s receding flush bloomed right back on. “Look in the front, you idiot, or you’ll hit a lamppost!”

Taiga did not regret it.

People made way before him as he roared in laughter, dragging a suddenly reluctant youth.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I’m stuck watching my boyfriend buying shoes with his sister. He plays basketball maybe once a month and the shoes he’s buying are ridiculously expensive for that. To pacify my annoyance at this desecration to basketball, he’s offered to take me out to eat. But that’s all we do!!
> 
> I was thinking more like...he should buy me a pair of well-deserved cleats. Hmph.
> 
> ;__; Men.


End file.
